


Solitary Man

by ColonelSMoran



Category: HIM (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcoholism, Angst, Cussing, HIM - Freeform, It's not domestic at all, M/M, Missy is only minor in this, Sort Of Fluff, Vam, bam is kinda sweet, lots and lots of cussing, sometimes, ville is a little shit in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:33:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColonelSMoran/pseuds/ColonelSMoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One drunken night turns their whole lives upside down. Bam is far too confused, and Ville is just constantly spiraling downwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ville Valo of all people, Bam thought to himself, quickly pulling on all of his clothes which had seemed to magically disappear throughout the night.. The very drunken night which he'd shared with HIM frontman, Ville Hermanni Valo, who was lying naked on the bed, covered just barely by the blanket there. Ville fucking Valo. Bam cursed at himself, pulling his shoes on and snatching up his wallet and keys from the bedside table, making a mad dash from the room as quietly as he possibly could. This would never be spoken of again. He'd just go home to Missy and the whole crew, and everything would be fine. Ville probably wouldn't even remember it... Right? Right....

\-------

Six Months Later 

\-------  
"Darling take me home, to the castle made of skulls and bones," Ville hummed quietly to himself - Well, what he thought was to himself - Mige and Linde were soon looking at him with raised eyebrows. "It's a song. A new one I've been working on. Sleepwalking Past Hope." He informed them, causing them to just shrug and turn away. Ville did the same, facing his back to his band members now just as his phone pinged once. A text message then. Sliding it from his pocket with frail fingers, he unlocked the screen. 

We need to talk. -B

About what? -V

About what happened. -B

What are you talking about?? -V

Don't play stupid. Mige has been telling me what you've been writing lately Ville... I'm not fucking stupid so stop acting like I am. -B

I never said you were stupid, Bam. You're putting words in my mouth. -V

I'm going to put my fist in your mouth if you don't fucking start talking about what happened. -B

What's there to talk about? -V

The fact that /we fucking slept together/?!?! -B

So? We were drunk. -V

Yeah, I fucking know that you smart ass little Finnish fuck. -B

Violent. -V

I'm pissed off. -B

Why? I've done nothing wrong. -V

You fucked me!! -B

No, I didn't, thank you very much. It was quite the other way around actually. -V

[Delayed] What? -B

You can read. -V

Stop being a smart ass. -B

It's better to be a smart one rather than a dumb one. -V

I can't tell if that's just a smart remark or if you're actually fucking insulting me. -B

Might be both. -V

Why the hell are you upset with me!? -B

Never said I was. You're making assumptions. -V

I'm going to put you in a hospital. -B

You already nearly have. -V

Excuse me? -B

Nothing. What did you hope to accomplish by texting me, Bam? I'm busy working on music. -V

You're fucking writing more songs about me. Come on. Stop that shit. I was hoping to get all this sorted out of /why/ this happened, and what exactly happened because I can't remember a damn thing other than waking up and making a mad dash out because I was fucking terrified. -B

We drank. You took me back to your hotel room after the concert. Started off with just a little kiss. You fucked me. End of story. -V

If that was all there was to it, you wouldn't be acting like this. Now spill. -B

It's nothing, Bam. And tell Rabb to stop texting me. I'm /busy/. -V

Fine. Apparently you're too fucking busy to talk to me too. Bye asshole. -B

Bye Bam x0 -V

Tossing his phone rather... angrily on the table in front of him, Mige and Linde turned their heads again and watched Ville as he ran his shaking fingers through his ratted up hair, gripping at handfuls of it and just tugging, fuming just under the surface, still keeping a somewhat calm facade. Well, that was before he shoved his chair back, picked up the paper he was writing along with his phone, curled up the paper and tossed it on the floor, and made his way back to his room. This was ridiculous. 

\---  
6 Months Later  
\---

It had been a whole year now since Bam and Ville had slept together. Drunken mistake, Ville kept telling himself. That didn't stop him from drinking himself to sleep nearly every single night, trying to forget the words Bam had said to him. Trying to forget those lips and those eyes and.. Trying to just forget Bam. And that god damned phone wouldn't stop going off. Twelve texts, twenty-seven missed calls, and three voicemails. Ville had locked himself in his tower in Helsinki for the past two months, not coming out for his band, checking his phone daily, but never responding, and only leaving when he ran out of alcohol. 

When he tipped the bottle in his hands up towards his lips, he pulled it back with a frown. Empty again. With a groan he pulled himself from the bed, long lanky legs first, his feet touching the cold hardwood floor and sending a shiver down his spine. It wasn't until he reached the kitchen that he heard the manic banging on his front door. And as much as he wanted to ignore it, oh how it made his head pound, he couldn't... It sounded like whoever was on the other side was near breaking the damn thing down. So with a fresh beer in hand, Ville drug his bare feet towards the door, unlocking the two deadbolts, and sliding the chain off. "What do you- Bam." Suddenly no amount of alcohol could help him. Nothing could. Maybe a cigarette... But he had ran out about an hour ago and hadn't been bothered to go out for more yet. And now here he was, faced with the man that he had been trying to forget. 

"Go away." Ville grumbled, trying to shut the door on the idiotic skater, only to have it blocked with his big, stupid fucking shoe. "Brandon, I don't fucking want you here, I don't want to see your face, I don't even want you within one hundred feet of me!" He was raising his voice, slinging his bottle about as he flailed his arms around, raising them in the air for emphasis of the space he wanted 'Bam Free'. "Now if you would so kindly /get the fuck out/." He growled, pushing the door harder now, all of his body weight pressed against it, smashing Bam's foot between the door and the frame. When his own legs betrayed him, Ville slid to the floor, bottle still in hand, his back resting against the door now as he could feel Bam pushing his way in. Stupid stubborn Margera. Never could take a fucking hint, could he? Of course not. He was /Bam/ - Everything revolved around /him/. 

Barely managing to squeeze through the door, Bam was finally inside, staring down at the drunken mess that had once been his friend - even more than his friend one night.. "You look like shit." He stated, dropping his duffle bag beside him and crossing his arms over his chest, judging the hell out of Ville. 

"Thanks," Ville grinned sarcastically, tipping up his bottle and loving the fuzzy feeling in his head. Oh if Bam would just leave, he could go get cigarettes and just sleep. That's all he wanted to do. Go to sleep. Maybe Bam wouldn't be there when he woke up. "You know, every man wants to be told he looks like shit." 

"Can't help that it's the truth." Bam said, finding a chair and pulling it up, sitting just across from the space at the front door where Ville was still sitting, back against the hard wood thing with that stupid fucking bottle pressed to his lips.

"You're just a fuckin' dick." Ville slurred. 

Raising his eyebrows, Bam got up from his chair. Without a warning at all, he snatched the bottle from Ville's hand and threw it across the room as hard as he could, pleased with the liquid shattering noise that he heard only seconds later as Ville glared at him. "I'm the fucking dick? Really now? Because all of your band mates think /you/ are fucking dead because you refuse to answer your phone, you never fucking leave this place, and you never even open your door! God knows what fucking possessed you to open it to /me/ of all people. Maybe it's because you're too fucking drunk!" Bam was shouting at him now and all Ville could do was cower away, pulling his knees to his chest now, trying his best to look unaffected by the words that were spewing from his friend's (friend?) mouth. 

Silence. Nothing but silence. The only thing that could be heard was the skater's heavy breathing, and Ville's too-small and far-too-fast breathes that were coming now. Anxiety, probably. When he couldn't take it anymore, the frontman pushed himself up off the ground, not paying a bit of attention to Bam at all as he made his way to the kitchen, yanking a bottle of water from the fridge now, knowing if he was to pull out more alcohol, Bam would just fucking snatch that away too like a five year old throwing some sort of hissy fit gone sour. Ville went to his room without warning, locking the door and making a B line to his bed after stripping off his shirt and the one sock that had seemed to be on his foot. He briefly wondered where the other sock had gotten to, but the thought was erased when he sipped the water. It tasted terrible. Screwing the top back on and laying back on his bed now, Ville closed his eyes. Just sleep. Bam will be gone when you wake up. 

\----

If Ville had ever told himself a lie before in his whole entire life, that was it. Bam wasn't gone. No. Not at all. Bam had managed to bust down Ville's bedroom door without waking him somehow, and was now rummaging through his room, cleaning out all of the pills and the remainder of alcohol that was there, including the empty bottles. 

Groggily sitting up on the side of the bed, Ville rubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands, hating the skater for making so much damned noise right about now. "Can you stop fucking touching all of my things you prick?" He spat at the younger man, making him stop and turn in his tracks. 

Oh the urge Bam had... He wanted to chunk the empty bottles that were in his arms now at Ville's head. That would do no good though. A lawsuit, a trip to the hospital, and a very angry, tall, lanky Finnish man. Bam decided against it and just put the bottles into the large black bag instead, turning back to face Ville when he was done. "No, I can't. I'm here for your detox."

"Excuse me?" Ville croaked, voice still raspy from sleep, his hair an absolute mess, and his shirt missing. Where was it anyways? Hadn't he taken it off before bed? He didn't remember... "No. No you fucking aren't. You're going to get out, or I'm calling the cops and you'll go to jail for trespassing on private property."

"Can't get me for trespassing on 'private property' when I have a key, you fuck-ass." Bam rolled his eyes at the idiot and tied the black bag now, which was clanking due to all of the glass bottles and cans that it contained. It was a miracle that Ville hadn't gotten alcohol poisoning yet - Or even worse, heart failure or something like that. "So, detox. The whole house has been newly freed of alcohol, no pills other than your prescriptions, and fresh coffee brewing in the kitchen. Now, do you want some breakfast or am I going to have to spoon feed you?" 

Un-fucking-believable. This little prat was unbelievable. Was he serious? An immediate detox would do nothing more to Ville than killing him in a quick manner. "I'm going to spoon feed you my foot in your ass if you don't put my fucking door back on the hinges." Ville angrily pushed past Bam and into his bathroom, grabbing around for his toothbrush before finally getting it right, going about brushing his teeth to get the taste of ass out of his mouth. 

Ville could practically /hear/ Bam rolling his eyes, that smart little shit. "If you keep making threats like that, I'm going to bust your fucking skull! You keep acting like I've hurt you or something, and I haven't done a god damned thing to you!!" Shouting. Bam was fucking shouting and Ville's head was /pounding/. 

"No, not at all, because you didn't fuck me, you didn't tell me you love me, you didn't tell me you'd be there when I woke, and you /sure as hell/ didn't tell me you were going to leave Missy either!" Ville shouted just as cruel in return, this time slamming his bathroom door and making sure to lock it, sinking down just like before with his back against it. 

Not a peep came from Bam or Ville for the next five hours. Five long, boring, tired hours that were spent on the bathroom floor, dozing in and out of sleep, trying to stay awake for the sake of not busting his head on the tub. 

When he emerged after those long five hours, his door was back on the hinges, a new bottle of water on his nightstand, his bed was made, and new clothes were on his bed with a little note. Shuffling over to the bed and plucking the note up, he read it.

/I'm sorry   
-Bam xo/

Ville was torn between ripping up the stupid piece of paper, or stuffing it away into his wallet to keep for the rest of his days to remind him that /once/ Bam actually had apologized to him for something... Flipping the card over in his fingers, Ville read the back. 

/The hotel on the corner is where I am. Room 526. I locked the front door, and more cigarettes are in the kitchen. Sorry. xoxoxoxoxoxoxo/

The line of X's and O's at the very end were smudged, wrote in a hurry, and far too sloppy.. Ville didn't like that. Opening his nightstand, he put the little card in there with care, knowing that it meant more to him than it should. 

So... Maybe a shower. Of course he wasn't going to see Bam, but.. if he was doing detox, might as well start with smelling better, right?

With that, he plucked up the new clothes in his arms and made his way to the bathroom, only returning once more to grab the bottle of water, gratefully drinking at it before he got in the shower. 

\----

Only one day had passed, and Ville didn't feel bad, honestly. He spent the whole day on the sofa, flipping through all the shitty channels on the television. 

\---

The second day when his phone didn't ring at all made him worry. He even had to check to make sure his phone service hadn't expired. No.. It was still in service. Tossing it back onto his bed, Ville picked up his guitar. 

\--- 

Day three wasn't all that bad. He made breakfast - AKA; A bagel and coffee. A good start. He even went out to the shops for orange juice. Fans stopped him and asked for his autograph. He couldn't deny them that. After all, it wasn't /their/ fault that he was upset. 

\---

Mige called on the fourth day. Ville actually picked up the phone for once. They talked for two whole hours...

\----

The fifth day was easy. Ville slept through most of it. Turns out when your body becomes dependent on alcohol to be there to help it, it takes away a lot of your energy when the alcohol is gone, leaving you with a major crash-and-burn feeling...

\---  
Day six was nothing but puking and screaming at the mirror. It felt like he was coming off of heroin... Just the alcohol though. Only the alcohol.

\---

One whole week had passed since his door had been replaced along with his blanket and sheets (Ville still hadn't slept on them. Instead, he'd been sleeping on the couch where he was usually spending his days now, if not in the bathroom)

\---

Day eight, Bam texted.

You want a salad? -B

Please. -V

The salad was brought to him in a bag, and Bam smiled at him when handing it off, just simply turning and leaving afterwards. Strange... He didn't even wait for Ville to ask him inside...

\---

Day nine was silence for the most part other than his phone. Seppo called. They'd lost their sponsors. Ville couldn't care less. 

\---

Day ten, Ville texted Bam.

Movies? -V

Only if you want. -B

I do. Come over. -V

Do I need to rent something? -B

I've got The Nightmare Before Christmas. I'm sure that'll suffice. -V

Perfect. -B

See you soon xx -V

Of course. x. -B

\---


	2. Chapter 2

The movie went well. Bam had even stayed for dinner. But when the sun went down and Ville started to yawn, the skater decided it best to leave, dooming the frontman to another lonely night on the couch with the shit television playing just for a distraction. Pulling his blanket and a pillow from the hall closet, Ville let them fall on the couch as he padded to the kitchen, now wearing his pajamas. Plaid pants, and one of his own band shirts. 

The way his bare feet slapped softly against the floor made Ville's mind immediately come up with a beat, and before he knew it, he was humming as his coffee brewed. Nothing like a good cup to put him to sleep. But after the cup was empty and four hours had passed, Ville had only just passed out on the couch, guitar in his hands still, bound to fall to the floor sometime during the night, song lyrics and chords all scattered across the table in front of him. Nothing like a good bit of inspiration. 

\---

Two days later without a word from Bam, Ville forced himself out of the tower, going to band rehearsal now, all of the guys telling him how he looked healthier than before, even putting some proper meat and muscle on his bones. It made him happy to know at least someone gave a shit about his appearance. If he could count on anyone in this whole entire world, it was his band mates. They played and played and played for hours, taking small breaks for water and to rest, talking their heads off about Ville's detox, Linde's marriage and baby on the way, Gas' health, and both Mige and Burton's families. It seemed Ville's life wasn't the only one looking up. Everyone's life seemed to be going well despite the fact that the band had lost some of it's more... 'important' sponsors. 

That day when he went home, Ville felt a certain relief and happiness coursing through his whole body, and he slept easy after a small dinner. 

Tonight was the first time he'd slept in his bed since Bam had made it. 

\---

When he awoke, Bam was in the tower. Ville could immediately tell because of the smoke detector going off downstairs and the line of curses that filled the spaces between the ear piercings beeps from the detector. The million dollar question though - What did Bam burn? 

Slipping on proper clothes, not seeing it fit to just travel downstairs in just his pajama bottoms, Ville slipped on a pair of well fitting jeans and the Rolling Stones' shirt that smelt well enough to be worn, making his way to the kitchen. 

Turns out it was just bacon. Apparently the smoke detector was just sensitive (Ville had never had a problem with it before a day in his life) Soon it was fixed though when Ville gave the younger man permission to smack it off of the ceiling with the broom, smashing it to pieces with his foot after he did so. 

"Well good morning to you too." Ville gave a light laugh, moving past Bam to his coffee maker, pleased to see the pot was full and had coffee waiting for him. "What's all this for then?" He asked after he'd made his cup, sitting back at the island located in the middle of his kitchen, watching Bam's back moving and turning as he cleaned off the stove since he'd gotten grease everywhere. 

Bam gave a shrug and Ville knew something was up. "Just figured you'd like breakfast, y'know? Mige told me you went to see the band yesterday and you did good.. Figured you deserved some kind of 'Surprise Detox Survivor' award." 

Ville shook his head and sipped from his cup. He'd lost count of the days since he'd last had a beer. That wasn't even the surprising part though. It had been ages since he actually /wanted/ to pick one up. Instead he'd taken to drinking various juices, coffee, and water on a regular basis, flushing out his system completely, and feeling a lot healthier just by doing that. "This isn't for that. It's for something else. You wouldn't have killed my smoke detector if it was an /award/." He nodded at the mangled mess of plastic and wires that were now scattered on the floor, giving Bam a raised eyebrow as the skater turned towards him and just scooted a plate there. 

Bacon, soup, and a bagel...

"You didn't have to ma-"

"I didn't have to fly out to Helsinki to make sure you were alright and to force you through a complete detox either, but I /wanted/ to. It's a big difference between a 'have to' and a 'want to', Ville." Bam cut him off, pulling juice from the fridge to fill his own cup. 

They ate in silence and Ville washed the dishes afterwards, picking up his guitar and notebook when he passed through the living room, sluggishly climbing the stairs with his full stomach, shutting his bedroom door lightly behind him. 

\---

Bam hadn't left, Ville was sure of that. He'd been there for four days now, and the both of them had barely said a single word to each other since breakfast other than, good morning, goodnight, and the occasional thank you. Other than that, nothing had been said. 

Why did you make me breakfast? -V

Why do I have to have a reason to make you breakfast? -B

Well you didn't fly all the way to Finland just to make me breakfast. -V

I came because Mige told me I was needed. -B

So Mige told you then? -V

Everything. -B

That bastard. -V

Don't curse your friend, V. He was just trying to help. -B

You shouldn't be here.. Not after... -V

Don't. -B

Bam, we had sex. You're /married/. -V

Can you just fucking /not/, Ville? -B

Why not? Because you cheated on your wife with me after you'd had one too many and just stormed out on me, left me in the bed all fucking alone after what you'd said to me that night?! -V

Can you stop it... Please? -B

I can't. You're still here. -V

You're trying to make me hate you? -B

You've got Missy. You don't need me, Bam. Go home to your wife and your family. -V

Ville... -B

Don't. -V

I'm sorry. -B

\--

Answer me. -B

\--

Unlock your stupid door. -B

\--

You seriously crawled out your window to get out? How mature. -B

You slept with your best friend behind your wife's back? How mature. -V

\--

Why is Ville sleeping on the band's rehearsal couch? -Mige

I don't fucking know. Ask him. -B

Okay... -Mige

He won't tell me. -Mige

Bam? -Mige  
\--

Ville? -B

Go away, Brandon. -V

Stop acting like you're five. -B

Stop stringing me along. -V

How am I - /What!?!/ -B

You can read. -V

\--

Missy and I divorced. -B

\--

I'm sorry... xoxooxoxoxooxoxox -V

\--

Ville was at the shops. A dozen flowers. God he felt like a cheesy bastard. He'd fucked up though, so... he had to fix it. This is really the only way he knew how, other than taking Bam out to some sort of fancy eatery and just staring at him awkwardly across the table. 

To his surprise, when he returned to the tower, it was empty. No Bam. No mess. No note. No duffle bag. 

Ville threw himself on the couch, his arms basically lifeless, letting the roses fall into his lap now as he pulled out his phone. 

Where are you? -V

Airport. -B

\--  
A year and a half later  
\--  
The roses Ville got for Bam had long since wilted. Ville had long since started drinking again. Stupid detox. Stupid 'being sober' stuff... Jonna was a part of Ville's life now, used to cover up whatever broken pieces Bam had left behind. The broken smoke detector, however... It still remained on the floor in the kitchen, Jonna complaining about it, and Ville telling her if she moved it, she'd be gone. 

Needless to say, it never got moved. Still remained in it's spot. 

\--

Bam had stayed in Westchester, trying his luck getting back with Missy, failing. He settled for an empty bed and watching concerts on television. Dunn came over ever so often, but Bam never spoke to him anymore. Come to think of it, Bam had hardly talked at all in the past six months... Maybe he hadn't even said a word. Sometimes he just stared at his phone, finger hovering over Ville's contact name and determining whether or not to call him. 

Every single time this happened, Bam's phone would end up on the coffee table, and he would end up as a burrito of blankets on the couch, whining about how music could never be loud enough, as he turned the TV up higher as he rewatched the most recent HIM concert in Brisbane. 

\--

Two months is all it took for Jonna to leave, and Ville threw out all of his alcohol again. He was better than this - Better than Bam. Better than Jonna. Better than addiction...

Nobody questioned the bags under his eyes or the knots in his hair, or even the way he smoked cigarette after cigarette at band rehearsal. It was amazing how people who love you can sit back and not try to stop you as you destroy yourself.... Ville always found that funny. 

Everything was funny to him until he was doing a full clean of his room and ran across that stupid sloppy, quickly written and smudged blank ink note that Bam had left for him... Turning it in his hands carefully as if it was fragile, he read it. 

/I'm sorry   
-Bam xo/

Flipping it to the back, Ville felt tears pooling in his eyes. He was so much better than this... So much better. Just throw the note away and never think about him again, it can all be solved if you just-

/The hotel on the corner is where I am. Room 526. I locked the front door, and more cigarettes are in the kitchen. Sorry. xoxoxoxoxoxoxo/

\--

Hours later for some ungodly reason, Ville found himself at the hotel, breaking into the room and searching anywhere for another note, something to connect him back to Bam again.. But nothing was there. Nothing at all was there. The smell of Bam had long been erased, and the house maids had cleaned everything back to original state. Anything that Bam had left in that room was long gone by now. 

Sighing deeply, the singer went home.

\--

Another week passed before Ville found himself cursing under his breath and twirling that stupid card between his fingers again, phone in his other hand as he typed out a message. 

Movie? -V

No response ever came that day. Or the next day. Or even next week... 

\--

It was a full two and a half weeks before a response ever came. And when it did, Ville lunged for his phone, cradling it like it was a precious gem and staring at the glowing screen that filled his dark room. 4:21 AM. 

The Nightmare Before Christmas? -B

Only if you want to. -V

Perfect. See you soon xo. -B

Of course xxxx -V

He was up and out of bed in no time. At 5 AM, he was staring at himself in the floor length mirror in his room, straightening out his shirt, combing his hair and poking at the dark bags under his eyes. As he may have been sober, that didn't exactly mean he was getting proper sleep, and it seemed to be taking an toll on his appearance. 

Nonetheless, with The Nightmare Before Christmas in his hands, he went and sat on the couch and waited. 

Waited. 

Waited. 

Hours passed and still no sign of Bam. 

Ville had fallen asleep on the couch, movie case clutched to his chest as he slept.

\--

A blanket was tossed over him the next morning, and a pillow tucked under his head, the movie in the DVD player, playing now. Sitting up slowly, the smell of bacon flooded his nose and he couldn't help the smile that broke across his face. 

"I didn't burn it this time." Bam said as soon as he heard Ville stirring in the kitchen, scooting past him once again to get his coffee, just like he'd done so long ago, barely brushing his shoulder with his own as he went to his coffee, the pot full and waiting for him. 

"I see that. Thank you." Ville filled his cup, even filling one for Bam, who looked like he could use it too. The signs showed clear on the skater just as well as they did on the singer. The dark bags, messed up hair, wrinkled clothes. Time apart had taken a toll on the both of them it seemed, and Ville couldn't stop the guilt that was filling his chest now. "I'm sorry." He muttered as he moved past Bam again to sit on his bar stool and the plate was slid in front of him. 

Bacon, soup, and a bagel...

"Don't," Bam stopped him immediately, eyes locking and hearts practically stopping. Ville could read the pain clear on Bam's face, just as if he was an open book, on display just for Ville to read. His own personal little library. "Missy is gone. Jonna is gone. It's just us, Ville - If you want it to be." He said again, picking the plate for himself and sitting opposite of the lanky singer. 

All he could do was nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys and girls, this is it! That's all of the story, drabble, thing...   
> I can always make another part to this for the drabbles and such, kind of the aftermath of Ville and Bam getting together - But only if I get enough feedback for me to be motivated to do it!   
> Thank you all for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it.   
> -ColonelSMoran

**Author's Note:**

> There will be another chapter, but this is basically just what I've thrown together so far. I forgot how much I loved Ville/Bam and well.. I felt the need for some angsty and mean stuff, so here you go. Next chapter will be up soon, I promise!
> 
> -ColonelSMoran


End file.
